


Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes, Pink Panties

by BoysWannaBeHer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comedy, Construction Worker Raven, Crack, F/F, Gangster Lexa, Humor, Mafia Lexa, Mobster Lexa, Princess Mechanic, Sassy Clarke, Sex, Thirsty Raven, take your pick, thirsty clarke, who knew a vacuum could be a wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoysWannaBeHer/pseuds/BoysWannaBeHer
Summary: “What can I do for you?” Raven ended the steamy silence, snapping Clarke out of her in-heat trance.“Err… I wondered if you could take a look at my vacuum?”Raven’s eyes went wide; that wasn’t what she was expecting.OrRaven’s new construction job places her next door to Clarke’s residence. Clarke takes notice. Teasing and sexual banging ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A friend that shall remain anonymous (for now?) wrote the majority of this with some help from me. When I say some, I mean a little, poquito, un peu. They are allowing me to post it. Enjoy.

Six-thirty seemed an ungodly hour of the morning to be starting work. The alarm clock’s shrill shrieking just two hours earlier had seemed even more blasphemous.

Raven Reyes forced her lean muscles to work. Forced her tired twenty-six-year-old body out of its single bed. She moaned inhumanly as she dragged the soles of her feet across her laminate floor. Her movements were clumsy and zombie-like, as if in homage to a late-night horror movie. Formulating words for the “living dead” Reyes at this point was unthinkable until she had her first cup of coffee at least.

As luck would have it, there was nobody around for Raven to offer pleasant conversation to anyway.

Three years a bachelor now. Three years since Harper emptied her side of the wardrobe, packed up her car, then drove away. She at least had the decency to leave Raven the clothes hangers.

Raven knew it was coming, knew their great romance had sprung a leak and was sinking fast. It still stung though. It still felt like a waste. In losing a lover, she had also lost a good friend.

Raven stumbled towards a much more human state of being as the caffeine kicked in. Her back was less hunched and Quasimodo-like, her eyes a little bit brighter.

Miss Raven Reyes was now more of the living than the dead. She pulled a black t-shirt over her head and sports bra, clad her legs in carpenter’s pants, and stuffed her feet into chunky steel-toe capped boots. 

A blast from a horn outside alerted Raven to her business partner’s arrival.

Calloused tips fingered the blinds lightly. The young builder looked down into the street and saw Lincoln’s slab of an arm dangling out of the window of his truck. He threw a hand up to his colleague as the light from behind the closed blinds flickered through.

The groggy Raven ripped her long dark locks into a tight ponytail. She threw her tool bag over her shoulder and headed for her apartment door. She almost forgot to grab her cap as she passed the side table.

Once outside, the gravel crunched under Raven’s heavy work boots as she ambled towards her lift. Lincoln heard Raven’s rucksack hit the hard bed of the truck, then the passenger door ripped open.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Lincoln teased his friend.

“Whatever,” Raven yawned.

The engine and Lincoln’s laughter roared simultaneously as the wheels of the truck spun on the asphalt.

 

* * *

 

 

At least the morning sun burnt down in great promise. Today would be a beautiful summer’s day indeed. The strobe effect of sunlight from beyond the tree lined street brought a fantastic array of colors into the cab of Lincoln’s truck. Raven slumped down in the passenger seat nonetheless. She tugged at the peak of her snapback, bringing it down to her eyes in further rebellion at such an early start.

“Where the hell are we working today?” Raven sighed.

“Place called Milford Haven. It’s on the coast.” Lincoln slipped his sunglasses on as he spoke.

Raven racked her early morning brain. Milford Haven? She had heard of this place before.

“Isn’t that a gated community? Like where the money is at?” Raven lifted the peak of her hat to look at her chauffeur.

“Yup!” Lincoln presented his pearly white teeth for inspection.

“How did we get a job with those snooty fucks?” Raven scoffed.

“We’re going up in the world, my friend.” Lincoln smiled with the same toothy grin.

“Jesus. I hate these places. So archaic. Let’s build a wall to keep the paupers out.” Raven shook her head.

Milford Haven was like another world indeed. A kind of lifestyle and privilege miles apart from that of Raven Reyes. Raven’s background was not one of want and servitude. She went to a good school and grew up in a decent area. Her folks did well by her. The inhabitants of Milford Haven only needed to wait for the next decrepit relative to drop dead and the next sack of inheritance would fall into their bank accounts. Millionaires… Where the men made the money and the wives made the cakes for the bake sale.

“Have you seen the movie The Stepford Wives?” Raven squinted at Lincoln through the sunshine.

“Nope,” Lincoln replied.

“Yea… you probably should have watched that before you booked this job.” Raven finally allowed herself to smile.

Lincoln looked puzzled.

“What’s the job anyway?” Raven sat up a little straighter in her seat.

“It’s a full refurbishment. We will be ripping the guts outta the place.” Lincoln dropped a gear before negotiating a sharp turn in the road.

Raven gripped the handle above her head as the truck slanted slightly.

“Aren’t we gonna need more hands on the job then?” Raven frowned.

“Definitely. I just wanna get a look at the place today,” Lincoln stated.

Raven and Lincoln had spent the past three years building up their own construction firm. It was started from scratch with very little money. Up to now, things were going well. Lincoln trusted Raven. There was no one else he knew with the skill set and determination to get a business off the ground.

“I figure if we do a good job on this place, we might get more bookings like this.” Lincoln slowed up for a red light.

“God… I hope not!” Raven sank back down in her seat again.

 

* * *

 

 

30 minutes later.

Raven shook her head in dismay as Lincoln rolled his truck up to the grand gates of Milford Haven. He threw the parking brake on in one rapid tug. The vehicle stopped inches from the sickening sight of endless affluence and privilege. Lincoln’s giant paw wound down his driver window as the gorilla from the security gate approached.

 After much waiting around, the two workers were finally permitted entry.

“Nice.” Lincoln whistled as he drove through the estate.

Raven saw a regular pattern of straight lines and perfect symmetry. The same ornate front doors. The exact size patch of lush green lawn out front. There were, of course, the customary white picket fences. It was the mailboxes that caught Raven’s eye.

“Fuck my life!… They have measured those fuckers out to the millimeter.”

Raven held her head in her hands.

“Who are these people?” She laughed.

“Rich… they’re rich! Let’s not forget that, Reyes.” Lincoln rubbed his fingertips together.

The house in question was easily located. Raven slammed the passenger door as she exited the truck. She noted how the curtains twitched across the street already.

The house was spectacular with a grand porch and huge bay windows. Raven cupped her hands around her eyes as she peered through the glass.

“Place is empty,” she confirmed.

“The same can’t be said for next door.” Lincoln pointed at the house sat right next door to their workspace.

This time, it was Raven to whistle.

“Very nice!” Raven coveted the car parked at the end of the driveway.

“You like?” Lincoln winked.

“Bugatti Veyron. Supersport. Quad turbo engine with 1,184 brake horsepower. I like!” Raven sighed lovingly.

“Well, the lucky owner is gonna have to move it. Unless they want it getting dinged.”

“That!... would be a crime! You’re looking at $1.7mil of vehicle.” Raven still stared longingly at her dream car.

“So, it’s only marginally outta your price range, Reyes.” Lincoln smirked.

“I will go see who’s home?” Raven made her way up the neighbor's path.

 

* * *

 

 

Raven didn’t get halfway towards the door before it swung open. Her boots scraped to a halt as soon as the resident came into view.

A blonde... a blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stain glass window. A blonde matching Raven in height but most certainly not shape. Raven couldn’t take her eyes off the woman's curvaceous form… the generous breasts that strained the material of her blouse. Raven appraised the woman’s body in the same manner she had the sports car. She knew she was doing it; she knew her eyes were scanning and lingering for way too long. Raven’s sexuality was hollering out from within. It had been way too long.

Since Harper bolted, Raven hadn’t been with another person, hadn’t shared her bed with a female for three long, dry years.

Lincoln watched on curiously. His friend now acting like a stalled vehicle at a traffic light. No movement, no action… nothing.

Internally, Raven turned the ignition to her brain over and over. Still, no response. Her battery, for all intents and purposes, was flat.

She had to say something though. The shapely woman stood with one heel on her pathway, the other still inside her house, an expensive looking handbag over her forearm, and her car keys clutched in her hand.

“Is the man of the house home?” Raven found herself asking as she staggered forward.

“You’re looking at him.” The blonde smiled, noting Raven’s wandering eyes.

Raven bit at her lip and nodded. The other woman didn’t need to say anything more.

“I guess I asked for that.” Raven placed her hands on her hips. She felt oddly unnerved.

“The house is all mine. The car is all mine. Those… are also all mine.” The smug blonde followed Raven’s leering eye line.

The brunette barked out a laugh, realizing she was all out drooling over this woman’s ample breasts.

“Yea… this isn’t going so well.” Raven cleared her throat, finally meeting the other woman’s bright blue eyes.

“Not so much.” The amused blonde winked as she closed her front door.

Lincoln desperately wanted to pull up a lawn chair and eat popcorn. The tension suddenly turning up to severe in a matter of seconds. He had never seen Raven Reyes lost for words. No quip, no swagger. It was quite the show.

“Is there a reason you’re on my walkway, Miss…?” The woman gestured towards the unknown intruder in her front yard.

“Raven.”

“Miss Raven,” the blonde announced.

“Yup… wait, no! Reyes… Miss Reyes. Raven… I’m Raven Reyes.”

Raven floundered; she was disappointed by the fact that she was still alive, that the earth had not been merciful enough to chew her up and spit her out.

“Well, Miss Reyes—Raven Reyes. I have to get to work so… how can I help you?” The woman tried not to smirk.

“You… you need to move your car, ma’am.” Raven babbled.

“That I can do. I am going to work as I said.” The cheeky woman dangled her keys before Raven.

Raven heard nothing but the clipping of sharp heels surrounding her as the blonde bombshell strolled past.

“Work… right,” Raven growled at herself.

“Yup... they let blondes do that now you know… _work_. I have a bank account and everything.” The girl couldn’t resist.

Raven shook her head. This woman wasn’t gonna let it go.

“Yea… look. I screwed this up, put my foot in my mouth. I get it. I’m already down at heel.” Raven finally found some nerve as the other girl pushed the gibes.

The blonde turned, dazzling Raven by the way the sunlight flashed across her hair.

“Down at heel? Oh, honey, not nearly enough.” The enthralling woman whispered the final part of her response.

Raven felt her skin burn, her thighs instantly squeezing together as this woman released a torrent of arousal throughout her body. She couldn’t move as she watched the offended girl enter her car.

_Vrooooom!_

The engine turned over, and the taillights came to life. Raven saw a flash of blue in the door mirror as the woman took one last look at the prey on her driveway.

Raven suddenly burst into laughter as she saw the corner of the girl's sky-blue eyes lift into a smile.

“Is the man of the house home? What the fuck, Reyes?” the laborer said to herself, astounded by her own sexist gaffe.

The blonde slid on her sunglasses, keeping Raven in her sights for a little longer.

“Have a good day, sweetheart!” Raven finally found her usual self, as she shouted after the stupefying woman.

She was relieved to hear a cackle of laughter from within the leather interior of the supercar.

The woman tweaked her mirror, taking in Raven’s healthy muscle and tattoos. The snapback hat and tight black tee flattered the intruder further. The blonde finally stared back at her own reflection.

“Well, Clarke, looks like this place might not be so bad after all.” The girl smiled.

 

* * *

 

  

Next day.

Raven grit her teeth as she pulled her wrench forcefully to the left. The damn rivet wouldn’t budge. The determined worker's legs dangled out from beneath the sink unit. One more attempt and then she would give up.

Raven heard the front door creak open. Hopefully, Lincoln was finally returning from the deli. She felt her stomach grumble for the third time.

“Where the fuck have you been, jackass?” The starved toiler hollered out from under the basin.

The low drawl of voice that cast back beyond the confines of the oak cabinet was very much female.

“Wow... you always this charming?” The voice teased.

Raven scrambled out from under the network of pipes.

“Shit!”

The plumber grabbed her t-shirt from the kitchen counter top. The toned girl felt exposed standing before this stranger in nothing but tight army fatigues and a sports bra.

Clarke made no effort to be respectful. Her eyes wandered Raven’s alternative look. Her tattooed arms and pierced flesh caught the grinning blonde’s attention most. The oil and dirt massaged into her skin only added to the worker’s rough appeal.

The two stood in silence. Raven wanted desperately to feign degradation under those thirsty blue eyes. She couldn’t though… not when her own eyes abandoned common decency in exactly the same way.

“Can I help you… ma’am?” Raven feared her voice betrayed her aroused state.

“Clarke,” the woman whispered in return.

“What?” Raven let out an equally breathy tone.

The sound of the dripping faucet in the background filled the silences.

“My name is Clarke,” the blonde confirmed in a raspy tone.

“Clarke…” Raven repeated.

“Uh huh.” Clarke winked.

The climate in the room suddenly shifted towards temperamental. The air quickly becoming thick and soupy. Raven wondered if the thermostat was broken. She felt her back sweating and her palms become moist. The statuesque blonde wasn’t fairing much better. Clarke regularly blew at errant curls that infuriated the skin at the tip of her nose. The curvy girl was hot, sticky, distracted.

“What can I do for you?” Raven ended the steamy silence, snapping Clarke out of her in-heat trance.

“Err… I wondered if you could take a look at my vacuum?”

Raven’s eyes went wide; that wasn’t what she was expecting.

 

* * *

 

 

Raven closed the girl's front door behind her. Clarke’s home was as opulent as Raven expected.

“Jesus!... What is it that you do?” Raven looked up to the sky-high ceilings and clean white-washed walls.

“I’m an investment banker.” Clarke turned to look over her shoulder at a trailing Raven.

“Eww,” Raven blurted out.

Clarke laughed. She laughed harder than she had for months. She turned to face Raven with her arms folded.

“You come into a girl’s home, and you say… eww?” Clarke held a hand over her wounded heart.

“Well… didn’t your kind almost destroy the world?” Raven raised a judgmental eyebrow.

“Yes.” Clarke nodded.

“Huh... you don’t seem remorseful.” Raven pursed her lips.

“I work for the forces of good now… not evil. Not anymore at least.” The sharp slice of memory’s knife seemed to run over Clarke’s skin.

“I see.” The lean worker held her eyes on a blushing Clarke.

Silence again ensued.

“Where is this vacuum then?” Raven looked around.

“It’s in my bedroom.” Clarke pointed.

“Of course it is.” Raven rolled her eyes as Clarke led the way.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke’s bedroom.

The bed, that huge inviting bed!

Raven felt her stomach fill with the most energetic of butterflies. She knew, knew by some kind of fortune teller’s magic, that soon she would own one side of it. _Clarke Reyes_ … how did that feel so inevitable?

“It’s right there.” Clarke smiled at a hazy Raven.

“Right.” Raven wiped her hands on her pants.

The skilled builder looked to the socket in the wall instantly. Clarke followed her sight line.

“I’m not _that_ blonde.” The cute girl grinned.

“Just checking.” Raven smiled back as she crouched down over the vacuum.

“I’m surprised you’re doing your own housework.” Raven looked up briefly from the idle appliance.

“Oh… you think I have servants because I’m white and rich. I see how it is.” Clarke’s tone was mocking.

Raven shook her head. She smiled to herself as she focused on the Hoover.

“If only I knew their names. Let me see now. I have a Filipino maid, a black cook, a Chinese gardener.” Clarke counted her imaginary ethnic staff on her fingers.

“Don’t forget the off-the-books Mexican fixing your domestic appliance for no wage!” Raven pointed a finger accusingly at Clarke.

Clarke laughed... laughed that same way again, as if she hadn’t found something humorous for ages.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to reward your efforts.” Clarke winked.

Raven paused, then went back to taking the vacuum apart.

“So you should... reward me that is. Slave labor otherwise.” Raven tutted.

“Slave, huh?… Would you feel more comfortable in restraints then? I have those,” Clarke teased.

Raven felt the white cotton of her boyshorts warm. It took all her strength not to bark _“Yes, Miss!”_ to the remarkable woman before her.

Raven realized she was still staring. No doubt with her mouth hanging open in shock.

“You… you have something stuck inside you,” Raven stammered.

“Excuse me?” Clarke’s response clambered out of her quickly drying throat.

“I mean… there is something stuck inside this.” Raven recovered from her Freudian slip.

“Oh,” Clarke mindlessly replied.

“There’s something inside here.” Raven quickly went back to the vacuum repairs.

Raven pushed her fingers into the appliance’s tight inlet. She wriggled her finger around inside. Clarke couldn’t take her eyes from Raven’s ministrations. The flexing forearm, the twisting wrist, the look of complete focus on her laborer’s face.

“Be careful you don’t get stuck inside there.” Clarke swallowed.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Raven grinned.

“That good, huh?” Clarke looked lost.

“That’s not for me to say. My services usually get a good review, work-rate wise that is.” Raven enjoyed suddenly being on top of the game.

Clarke hadn’t even realized it, but she was all but panting before a crouched Raven.

“Got it!” Raven celebrated.

Dust billowed out from the vacuum... followed by a pretty pink thong.

Raven remained on her knees, the silky underwear clutched in her hand.

Clarke had planned on flirtatious banter. She had expected to gloat smugly at Raven’s stunned expression. Raven’s pupils were dilated, her fingers fondling the soft material of this stranger's expensive panties.

Clarke automatically glanced at the bed.

Raven read the open invitation in this bold woman’s eyes.

 _Bang! Bang!_ ... both girls startled at the heavy knock on the front door.

“I better go.” Raven tossed the dusty thong onto the bed, quickly putting the vacuum back together.

Clarke let out a breath.

“It should work now. If not... you know where to find me,” the toned brunette hinted.

“I do. Would you go out through the back door? I have a feeling I know who that is on my porch.”

“Sure. Backdoor it is.” Raven shrugged.

The frustrated blonde cursed the person knocking on her damn door.

 

* * *

 

 

15 mins later.

Raven looked at the dirty work surfaces. The counter top filled with various implements with which to attack the rebellious insurgent that was this damn kitchen sink!

A wrench, nitrile gloves, and a heavy hammer were all at Raven’s disposal.

Still no sign of Lincoln. Still no sign of lunch.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, and pink panties flashed in Raven’s mind. The horniness and the hunger were now starting to grate at Raven’s patience.

She took her frustrations out on the stubborn sink bracket, forcefully gripping the bite of her wrench upon the tight nut. She growled as her biceps shuddered and her forearms bulged. Her gritted teeth appeared even whiter against her dirty face.

“Fucker!” Raven snarled as she used all her might.

The tight-fitting bolt rebelled still.

The frustrated worker launched herself up from the cold tiled floor. She kicked out at the problematic sink unit, throwing the useless wrench across the room and punching out at the innocent air.

The front door opened again. Lincoln surely could relieve one of Raven’s needs now... food!

What greeted the wound-up Raven was a perfect solution to two of her aching wants.

Clarke crept towards the furious grunt, having witnessed the laborer take her temper out on her workspace and tools. Clarke carried in her hands a plate. Raven glared at her provocative new neighbor.

“I said I'd reward you.” Clarke gently laid the plate and accompanying sandwich on the counter top.

In an instant...

Raven’s feet propelled her towards the irksome blonde. She heard the plate shatter first and then a girlish scream from her tormentor. Clarke could only tightly secure her thighs around Raven’s hips as the athletic builder lifted her from her feet and threw her upon the kitchen counter. Nails clawed at Raven’s back as her top was quickly pulled from her body. Clarke wasted no time in exposing her worker's darker skin. Clarke remained trapped under Raven as the tanned girl scrambled on top of willing white flesh. Raven felt an intrusive tongue enter her mouth as the two girls’ lips met in the most violent of kisses and chaotic of embraces. 

Painted nails pierced Raven’s worked forearm, forcing her attached hand down between parted full thighs. Clarke was desperate now, she needed fucking, needed filling up inside. It had been too long since she felt another woman enter her.

Raven smiled into her brutal kiss with Clarke, knowing exactly what the girl wanted.

“I can’t,” Raven panted between kisses.

Clarke sobbed, pulling the hand again towards her soaked pussy.

“I can't!” Raven repeated.

Clarke paused.

“Like hell you can’t!” The blonde demanded release.

“My hands are really dirty,” Raven sighed.

Clarke refused to be let down by the inconvenience of cleanliness. She pushed Raven away from her gifted form, lifted Raven’s sacrificial body from the would-be altar. The blonde turned slightly, crazed and horny eyes scanning the counter top. She spotted her prize. Clarke grabbed frantically at the box of nitrile gloves.

“Now! Put one of these on right now!” Clarke ordered.

Raven didn’t stand on formality, already, her left hand was wrapped in thin, protective rubber. The glove snapping on at her wrist victoriously.

Clarke laid back down; her legs parted again and praying for a brutal assault on her most private area.

Raven did not disappoint. Her tips already searched for Clarke’s entrance. The rubber barrier slipping into wet folds.

“Fuck me,” Clarke commanded.

Raven almost roared as she pushed two fingers into the attractive woman beneath her. The wet slapping of flesh a tortuous crescendo as she felt Clarke’s insides give. The girl was tight, hot, narrow. It had been some time since Clarke had received another inside. Raven found herself grinning as Clarke’s back arched off the makeshift altar and her neck lay exposed to attack. Raven zoned in on the goose-pimpled flesh and throbbing jugular, her teeth sinking in as her fingers searched the girl's warmth.

Raven felt Clarke’s inner walls swell and envelope her stiff fingers. Clarke’s legs wriggled excitedly, one heel falling off as her foot assaulted the side of the kitchen island.

Neither girl noticed the front door sneaking open.

Lincoln heard the desperate cries of a woman undone. Clarke’s voice several octaves higher as her wet heat permitted her partner further access. Raven was unforgiving in her pounding, relentless in her rapid pace. The rubber now hot and slippery as long fingers bolted in and out, repeatedly.

Lincoln covered his mouth as he peeped around the corner. He was met with an incredible sight.

Blonde hair hanging downwards, milky legs wide and parted, a pointed tip of an elbow vigorously retracting back and forth. The strong brunette appeared to be sawing the woman beneath in half.

The back of Clarke’s head banged onto the countertop. Raven pulling at her form so aggressively, she was gathered up and tossed back down like she weighed nothing at all.

Lincoln backed away and slipped out the front door, Raven’s turkey bacon sandwich in his hand.

Raven lowered herself further atop the voluptuous blonde. Clarke instantly knew what reward Raven truly sought. Clarke clawed at her own blouse, buttons flying into the air, shaking fingertips pulling downwards to present a large breast to her diligent worker. The peak of Raven’s cap proved to be an unwelcome obstruction. Clarke wasted no time in twisting the cap around to face the other way, making Raven appear ten years younger.

“You want these, baby?” Clarke moaned as Raven’s face lit up on seeing the maternal orbs.

Clarke’s eyes closed tightly shut as Raven’s mouth captured a rosy pink nipple and sucked with no gentility. The smack of Raven’s lips sounding out as she lost herself in Clarke’s full breasts.

 Clarke fell into the final depths of release.

“Fuck, fuck... I’m gonna cum!” Clarke praised.

Raven bit her lip in mild discomfort as Clarke’s orgasming cunt crushed three of her inserted fingers.

Raven struggled to hold Clarke down. The worker’s thudding fingertips finding resistance as Clarke tightened up. Her body about to reward her with the strongest of climaxes.

Raven couldn't help but berate the teasing blonde as she fucked her.

“Yea?... You wanna cum? You gonna cum for me, Clarke?” Raven pushed deeper, using her thumb to press firm circles around the blonde’s engorged clit.

The most beautiful sound left Clarke’s lips. Her frame stiffened as she pushed back helplessly against Raven’s frame. It was too late. Her muscles went into spasm inside, gushing out a flow of release all over Raven’s gloved hand and forearm. The dark-haired girl continued to push inside. She refused to let up. Raven smelt the tang of an exposed pussy, mixed with a dash of copper. Clarke bled slightly, the advance from Raven heavy and rough.

Raven felt her partner's center release her. The fired-up builder lifted herself from Clarke’s defeated form, slowly pulling out her wet fingers. The blonde felt alone as the weight that was on top of her was suddenly gone. She didn’t wait for further contact for long. Raven ripped the glove off and grabbed for Clarke’s lost hand, pulling the girl up from the kitchen island mid-recovery.

Clarke stumbled clumsily to her feet before a frowning Raven. She felt her weak form pulled down to its knees urgently by Raven’s right hand. The laborer’s left hand yanked her belt out from its loops quickly.

“You need to sort this right now,” Raven growled.

Clarke nodded agreeably, pulling at Raven’s pants so madly that she took her underwear as well in one fail swoop.

“Get that mouth on me; this is all you!” Raven’s clit was hard, swollen, ready.

Clarke obeyed, almost swallowing Raven whole. Her jaw clicked as it opened wide. Raven heard the girl’s desperate breaths as the builder rode her beautiful face. Clarke at this point was thankful for her inherited strong jaw.

This really wasn’t going to take long. Already Clarke tasted Raven’s climax. She felt a strong set of fingers latch onto her hair. The blonde’s head forced further into Raven’s crotch as the girl finally came.

Clarke lapped and swallowed hungrily. Raven’s flesh hot and milky as she released her satisfaction upon Clarke’s face.

“Take it all!” Raven still pulled at Clarke’s hair.

Clarke placed a hand on the flat of Raven’s thigh. She was now struggling for some air.

“I don’t think so... ma’am!” Raven refused to free Clarke just yet.

Clarke thought better of retaliating with her teeth. Instead, she forced her tongue up inside a gloating Raven, almost lifting the light-weight girl off her feet.

“Shit!” Raven gripped the counter.

The exhausted builder slid down the oak panels of the kitchen cupboards. She landed in a tangled heap with a smiling Clarke. Raven felt light headed and mushy on the inside.

The builder rested her head on the wooden surface behind as she awaited her heart rate to stabilize. Clarke lay herself down on the kitchen floor, Raven’s cum still shining on her face.

Raven kept one eye open as she rested. Her table-top partner strewn out on the ground before her.

“Wow... that was... different,” Raven conceded.

“Been a while, has it?” Clarke responded.

Raven let out a soft laugh.

“Three years,” Raven admitted.

“Jesus...” Clarke giggled.

“You?” Raven gently tapped Clarke with her booted foot.

“About nine months,” Clarke guessed.

“Well... that was overdue.” Raven continued to push at Clarke with her boot.

Clarke slapped at the brutish footwear, causing Raven to snicker.

“Stop that, slave!” Clarke teased.

Raven took a deep satisfied breath. She felt silly for feeling like a new Raven Reyes. A thought passed through the builder's mind though.

“Hey... who knocked at your door before? This would have been much comfier in that big bed of yours.”

Clarke sat up wearily. Raven felt the air between them change. She witnessed Clarke’s posture become rigid and defensive.

“Shit... who the hell was it?” Raven eyed Clarke curiously.

“I'm going through a divorce right now. The unexpected visitor was my soon-to-be ex-wife,” Clarke grimaced.

“Ah... hence the backdoor exit.” Raven rolled her eyes.

“Yea... sorry about that.” Clarke ruffled her messy hair.

“Not an amicable divorce then? More of a bitter kind of fruit?” Raven surmised.

Clarke sat up straighter, readjusting her breasts back into her bra.

“My ex tends to think she owns everything. Everything is hers, including me. She doesn't want to let me go.” Clarke looked distant.

“Wow... she an evil investment banker too?” Raven smirked.

“She’s a property developer,” Clarke whispered.

“Oh, yeah? What’s her name? I know most of the developers in these parts.” Raven’s interest was spurred.

Clarke hoped it wouldn’t be.

“Her name is Alexa.” Clarke looked Raven straight in the face as the name left her lips.

Raven paled.

“Alexa! Oh, fuck no! Please don’t tell me I’ve just banged Alexa Tricruz’s fucking wife!”

“She’s just a business woman.” Clarke shrugged.

“No, Clarke! She is a fucking mobster that owns half the city!!” Raven held her head in her hands.

“She didn’t see you,” Clarke offered.

Raven let her head hit the cabinet behind her.

“The Bugatti. Our latest divorce hearing didn’t go so well. I kinda... borrowed that car.” Clarke made herself small.

“Borrowed? You mean you stole from her?” Raven had to smirk at that.

“How about seconded.” Clarke smiled.

“This isn’t funny. Where is she now?”

Clarke didn’t respond.

“Clarke?” Raven raised her voice.

“She’s still next door.”

Raven let out a nervous laugh.

“Great. You’re paying for my fucking funeral, Clarke!”

Raven pulled her cap down over her face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanted mobster!Lexa (shit, I did too) and now you’ve got mobster!Lexa. Again, this was written by a friend with some input from me.
> 
> Please take a moment to appreciate [THIS](http://68.media.tumblr.com/b3589018673345acd63818bc5d3fc246/tumblr_o0dc0qrR3r1qjd5ffo2_r5_1280.png) piece of work by [cassiniregio](http://cassiniregio.tumblr.com/post/136567595270/mob-bosslexa) that I stumbled upon. I think it adds a great visual to Alexa Tricruz. Coming across that is what got the ball rolling for a second chapter.

“She’s whose fucking wife?” A male voice cried out several octaves higher than normal.

Lincoln was wide-eyed, his face in his hands and frozen in a classic _Home Alone_ moment. Raven’s words were still not sinking in.

“Would you keep your damn voice down!” Raven jabbed Lincoln in the arm.

“Ouch! Jesus.” Lincoln mothered his own bicep.

The two friends huddled in the shadows, the lights off and the curtains drawn.

“Alexa. Alexa _goddamn_ Tricruz.” Raven sighed, that name leaving her lips for the third time.

“As in Gustus Tricruz’s daughter?” Lincoln shook his head in disbelief.

Raven blew out a breath then nodded.

“As in owns half of the city, Alexa Tricruz?”

“I didn’t know, ok! I didn’t know! Hot blondie didn’t come with a label!” Raven folded her arms and stamped her foot at an equally flustered Lincoln, her face mirroring his panic.

“Some guy cut her off in traffic, you know. Nobody had seen him since. His car was found in a parking lot... ‘abandoned.’” Lincoln air quoted.

Raven’s throat quickly dried out. She ran an errant tongue around her mouth hoping to bring moisture to her dry pallet.

“I heard the one time she got hauled in by the cops, she walked out of the precinct shaking the police commissioner’s hand. He fucking apologized to her! The cop who arrested her is now a meter maid!”

Raven sucked in a breath, turning sharply and wiping her sweaty brow.

“She took out Marcus Kanesella and his sons... by herself!”

“Oh, my God! I think we have established who she is now!” Raven waved her arms in the air, exasperated with a crumbling Lincoln.

Lincoln began to pace up and down the hallway.

Expensive tires slowly grinding into the gritty road surface outside caught both friends’ attention.

Raven braved a peek through the home's front door side window, her slender form strategically placed in the shadows as she watched an ominous black Bentley Continental arriving, not one imperfection on the sleek bodywork. The titanium alloys taunted Raven as they rolled to a stop outside Clarke’s door.

“I think Alexa’s goons are here,” Raven surmised.

“Let me guess. Two armed gorillas in shirts and ties?” Lincoln laughed at his own joke.

“Not exactly… Damn!” Raven licked her lips.

Two terrifyingly beautiful women stepped out onto the curb.

Black Saint Laurent tuxedos. The iconic dinner suit for which both these women seemed to be poured into, tailored in Italy from a luxurious blend of cashmere and cotton. These two thugs replicated a silhouette of a gangster era long gone. [Alessandra Rich](https://www.brownsfashion.com/uk/shopping/large-fringe-earring-11982733) earrings and Louis Vuitton heels finished off the outfits to heavenly perfection.

“Let me see!” Lincoln pulled Raven away from the window.

Lincoln took his turn peeping through the glass.

“Look at that. All Hugo Boss and attitude.”

“Actually… they’re wearing Saint Laurent.” Raven corrected.

Lincoln gave his scruffy colleague the once over.

“Please. I’m a lesbian. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve googled _Angelina Jolie Tuxedo_?”

Lincoln went back to his stakeout.

“The shorter one is kinda hot.” Lincoln gawked at the dark-haired vixen.

“My turn again!” Raven barged Lincoln to one side.

“Hey!” The two friends battled to place a leering eye through the small window.

“Fuck. Me. Up.” Raven drooled.

 

* * *

 

 

_ In Clarke’s front room. _

 

“Do they have to be inside my fucking house?” Clarke glared at her wife's hitmen.

Alexa Tricruz paused, her eyes transfixed on her restless wife. The gangster lounged like a panther upon Clarke’s expensive armchair. Her posture languid and loose as she sucked on the end of a Fuente Don cigar, a glass of Glenlivet dangling carelessly from manicured fingertips. The mobster's typically arrogant attitude only served to wind Clarke up further.

“Get -the -fuck -out!” Clarke pointed to the exit. Alexa’s henchmen refused to budge still.

Alexa tried to hide the smile that crept across her lips. Clarke dared to holler at her protection. These two women would take out their own mother for less. Clarke’s unmoving nerve and hutzpa still pleased Alexa after all these years.

Still keeping her eyes locked onto the hot blonde, Alexa motioned with her hand for her crew to depart.

“Leave us,” Alexa commanded.

“Sure thing, boss.” Anya’s eyes ran a pissy warning over a too-bold Clarke.

Silence filled the living space. Only the clipping of Lois Vuitton heels on oak flooring sounding out as the two suited women retreated from Clarke’s home.

“Anya.” Alexa suddenly called back her loyal crook.

“Yes, boss?”

Clarke folded her arms and huffed as the two goons still loitered in her hallway.

“It would take the cops weeks to find all of your fucking body parts. Don’t ever look at her like that again, understood?”

“Understood.” Anya swallowed.

Fury-ridden green eyes carefully inspected the brown papered cigar that slowly rotated in Alexa’s fingers. The mafia queen brought the butt of the smoke to her lips before dragging in a lung full of smooth tobacco.

“Now get out. Like my lady says," Alexa growled through a ring of cigar smoke.

“We're just on the drive, boss.” Octavia nodded at a fixed-focus Alexa. Clarke returned the mobster’s hard glare with a furrowed brow.

Clarke waited for the trigger-happy staff to get halfway down her path before turning to face her arrogant wife.

“I'm not your goddamn lady.” Clarke snapped.

“No?” Alexa smirked.

“No!” Clarke leaned forward into Alexa’s personal space as if the leader were deaf.

Again… that smug smile, that unnerved reaction, as Clarke’s cheeks continued to plump up in a reddish hue, giving away her emotions so quickly to the kingpin.

“What the hell are you doing here, Alexa?” Clarke's voice trembled with anger.

“I missed you, baby.” Alexa’s face softened

Clarke barked out a single sarcastic laugh.

She shook her head, unable for a moment to look at the woman sitting on her furniture. That damn suit! Clarke picked that suit. This infuriating woman knew exactly what she was doing when she slipped that figure-hugging silk on this morning. How dare she roll up to Clarke's doorstep looking this good.

Clarke let her attention fall to the two armed associates on her drive; they loomed on her property, nothing but obedience for their temperamental management.

“I'm not afraid of you, Alexa.” Clarke held her chin high.

The mobster slowly stood from her seat, her eyes somehow never leaving Clarke’s.

“I know. That’s why I…” Alexa cut herself off.

Clarke felt her heart flutter.

“Don’t you dare come here and do this to me.” Clarke managed a faint croak.

Alexa drew in a ragged breath. Clarke’s fluttering heart, hidden deep inside her closed off posture, beat with a thundering truth to Alexa. The mobster changed her position suddenly. Her hands behind her back, her chest puffed outward, her eyes now cold.

“Fine. In that case, I'm here for you to finish out your contract with the business before the divorce is final.”

Clarke's eyes went wide, her heart still calling out for her villain.

“What are you talking about?” Clarke whispered with a bewildered tone.

“I have 2.4 million dollars that I need you to make disappear. Seems that’s all you're good for now.”

Clarke flew for Alexa. The seasoned gangster easily pulling Clarke's hand up behind her back and pulling her body into her own. Clarke struggled in Alexa’s hold only briefly. Then those eyes froze her to the spot. Inches apart, Clarke's lips drifted helplessly towards Alexa’s. That mouth, that glare, that slender body pressed against her own. Clarke let out a girlish sob. Something hard and metallic pressed into her crotch, hitting right in the spot she needed. The butt of Alexa’s firearm teased the super-smart investment banker unforgivingly through her dress. Still, Raven’s fingers left their mark within Clarke's tight insides. Dark bruises formed on her breasts where Raven’s mouth had fed.

The still married couple remained glued together, Alexa gently rotating her hip into a constantly yearning Clarke. Alexa suddenly noted the evidence that recently, her wife had orgasmed.

Clarke’s pupils were still blown wide, her hair wild with more volume, her lips swollen and sore.

“Who’s had you?” Alexa gripped Clarke tighter, making it hard for the girl to breathe.

“No one. There's no one,” Clarke tried. The gun still rubbed sweetly at her bundle of nerve endings. Her panties softened under Alexa’s scrutiny.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!… I know you, Clarke Tricruz,” Alexa spoke through gritted teeth.

“Lex. Please… don’t,” Clarke panted.

“You’re still mine, honey!” Alexa whispered into Clarke’s red-hot ear.

 

Minutes later. 

 

_“Boom!”_

Clarke’s front door opened then abruptly closed shut. The laborer's palms began to sweat as sharp high heels sought to puncture holes in the path leading to her location. Long fingers then curled inwards into a balled-up fist. Bare knuckles wrapped out a deafening knock onto Raven’s workplace front door.

“Shit!” Lincoln startled.

Reyes approached the front door warily. A tall, slender silhouette stood patiently waiting on the other side of the frosted glass. The engineer wiped her greasy hands on a rag as she slowly walked to face her guest.

Apprehensively, she drew up closer to the only barrier between herself and the dark figure on the other side. Raven gripped the door handle tightly in her hand, one last prayer whispered to above before she faced the visitor from next door.

As the door creaked open, Raven was met by the most alluring of females. She was dark and seductive with only a glimmer of self-restraint. Her demeanor instantly screamed _predator_ at a brave Raven. That deep scar across an absolutely rigid cheekbone. The cut Givenchy suit jacket and fitting slacks. This woman's outfit was no doubt worth more than Raven’s rent on her apartment. The sweetest perfume engulfed Raven’s senses on first contact. The thirty-five millimeter strapped to a curved silky hip was not missed by Raven either.

Alexa Tricruz was dangerous, infamous, notorious… she was also exceptionally beautiful.

Raven’s trembling hand clung to the door frame as she locked eyes with Clarke’s wife.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” Raven held the visitor's glare.

“I just need a shovel,” Alexa announced.

“Hey, Muscles. Care to help a lady out?” Octavia called to Lincoln from behind Alexa.

Alexa only had eyes for Raven. Her hands behind her back, her shoulders held with perfect posture. She lingered on Raven’s threshold like a vampire needing an invitation to enter inside.

“Err… I…” Lincoln deliberated

“It’s fine, Linc. I can get the shovel myself,” Raven declared.

Raven glanced at the two smirking goons standing behind their master.

“You sure?” Lincoln asked.

“Yea… go be a gent and help the ladies with whatever they need.” Raven nodded.

“Ok. I will just be outside. Like just outside the door.” Lincoln winked at Raven.

“It’s not nice to keep a lady waiting, handsome," Octavia purred.

“She means get the fuck out here." Anya beckoned Lincoln with her fingers. The impatient gangster was already bored.

 

* * *

 

Once out on the drive, Lincoln almost forgot about leaving his friend in the clutches of the stunning Alexa Tricruz.

Octavia made no effort to hide her coveting. Lincoln felt stripped naked as the henchwoman’s eyes applauded his physique.

“We’ve been waiting for a boy like you all day. There is something we both need from you that we just can’t seem to give each other. We keep trying though,” Octavia teased.

Lincoln swallowed. Octavia was only slightly less intimidating than her grouchy colleague.

Anya now stood by the Bentley’s trunk, rolling her eyes.

“She means we need you to lift this out of here, Hercules.” Anya pointed into the trunk.

Octavia smiled at a completely entranced Lincoln. If Raven did need her friend, he was currently entangled in Octavia’s sticky web. It was all too easy for the loyal gun bitch.

Lincoln peered apprehensively into the trunk.

His eyes fell upon a large, oversized duffel bag.

“What’s in it?” Lincoln squinted his eyes.

Octavia grinned at Anya, the two women drawn in a look of mischievous intent.

“It’s just… trash.” Anya quirked a brow at Lincoln.

“How heavy is it?” Lincoln inquired.

“About 154lbs… without the concrete block,” Anya quipped.

Octavia stifled a laugh.

“Just set it down on the driveway.” Anya stepped back from the trunk.

Lincoln grit his teeth as he lifted the ominous duffel bag, his cheeks puffing out as his arms strained under the weight. Once the duffel bag was set on the drive, the strong man turned to face the two smartly-dressed, threatening girls, the duffel bag just in his eye line beyond them.

Octavia still surveyed Lincoln’s form, her tongue wetting her lips and her eyes taking measurement of his toolbox. Anya looked nothing short of bored.

“So… how long have you known Clarke?” Octavia smiled.

“I don’t real…” Lincoln paled.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Anya snarled.

“Your… your trash is moving.” Lincoln pointed a trembling finger at the duffel bag.

“Damn it!” Anya groaned.

“I did the last one.” Octavia shrugged at a grumbling Anya.

Lincoln tried not to look, his eyes darting between Octavia and the trash on the drive as it now wiggled away from its captures.

Octavia did her best to offer distraction.

“Do you like this bra? I never know whether to wear a bra with a suit like this.” Octavia flashed her cleavage at Lincoln.

For the briefest of moments, the distraction worked. Lincoln’s easily-lead male eyes dropped to Octavia’s full bosom. The satiny black bra beneath barely containing the ripe fruits within. He quickly snapped to attention though as Anya launched a solid kick into the trash on the drive.

A very human _yelp_ sounded out from within the fabric.

_“Thud!”_

Again, Anya followed the first solid kick with a much more brutal second.

Octavia closed her eyes, covering her breasts with a sigh.

“Really?” Octavia turned to face a satisfied Anya.

Lincoln’s mouth now hung wide open.

“Oh, please. Knock off the hetty bullshit.” Anya threw a dark look towards a bewildered Lincoln.

“You know your little Puerto Rican friend is toast, right?” Anya smiled.

“She’s Mexican.” Lincoln whispered, hypnotized by the now silent ‘trash bag.’

“Ha! I told you she was Mexican.” Octavia pointed at a sullen Anya.

In a flash, Lincoln turned for the door.

“No, no, no. Not so fast, big boy.” Octavia pulled her gun on Lincoln.

“But… she’ll kill her.” Lincoln stuttered.

“Yea, well… nobody touches Clarke. I thought everyone knew that.” Anya scoffed.

 

* * *

 

“So… you want a shovel or a spade? They’re not quite the same thing you see,” Raven babbled.

Alexa took small, menacing steps towards the retreating Reyes. The plucky young Raven never foolish enough to turn her back on the mobster, never dumb enough to get too close either. The builder shuffled backward with every step the brunette took towards her being.

“You’re taller than you look on the news,” Raven nervously blurted out.

Still, Alexa slowly pursued her meal.

“Your eyes are really green.” Raven swallowed.

Alexa never blinked as she reeled Raven in.

“They look just like emeralds. Really… violent emeralds. I mean vibrant!” Raven let out a clumsy, ragged breath.

Still, Alexa herded her prey into the kitchen area.

The radio was still blaring even though Lincoln and Raven paused their toiling an hour ago. Raven was quickly running out of space.

“She sounds so amazing, doesn’t she? In your ear like that. Especially when she gets closer to the end.” Alexa’s voice was a deep, dark rumble.

“Please tell me you’re talking about Adele?” Raven glanced at the radio.

“Umff!” Raven’s back finally collided with the worktop behind her.

Alexa paused by the kitchen island. Raven’s mind flashed quickly with an altogether pleasant memory of Clarke writhing under her. Right on top of the surface _Alexa Tricruz now_ ran her fingertip across. The mobster, for a moment, held her breath, her fingers picking at something upon the kitchen island. There it was, all the evidence the crime queen needed. A single blonde hair now glinted in the light, forcing Alexa to grind her teeth together, forcing Raven to squeeze her eyes tightly shut.

Raven had no idea how long her eyes had been closed? Only the growing scent of perfume snapped her eyes open again.

Alexa Tricruz stood inches from Raven’s quivering body, her hands on either side of the work surface behind the trapped worker.

The Mafia elite stood so close to her victim that Raven felt the mobster’s breath tickle her cheek. The rich smell of expensive whiskey filled Raven’s nostrils. It was enough to inebriate the helpless girl. Surely though, it couldn’t just be the alcohol-scented breath alone that intoxicated the Latina into submission.

“Jesus… you’re really fuckin’ beautiful. How can a woman be so _bad_ but look so damn _good_?” Raven whispered to herself.

Alexa gripped the wooden counter behind Raven’s back. The oaky surface churning up under sharp fingernails.

“Like insanely sexy,” Raven mumbled, unable to take her eyes from the woman before her.

“Do you think I’m gonna let you out of this house, Raven Reyes?” Alexa softly hissed.

“Oh, my God! Seriously!” Clarke slammed the door behind her.

“Surely, you knew I’d either kill her or fuck her,” Alexa smirked, still leaning her body into a stunned Raven.

“Fuck me… I vote fuck me,” Raven slurred.

Clarke pushed past Alexa.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” Clarke snatched Raven from Alexa’s claws.

“Tell me you weren’t dumb enough to look into her eyes!” Clarke side-mouthed her words at Raven.

“I couldn’t help it. So very green; so very pretty!”

“Jesus!” Clarke dragged a spaced-out Raven to the front door. Saving her from herself.

“Rule number one: never look directly into her eyes!” Clarke schooled Raven.

“I think she got me pregnant!” Raven whimpered.

“Out! Go wait next door!” Clarke all but threw Raven out the front door.

“Adiós, chula!” Alexa called to a departing Raven.

“Oh, my god. She speaks Spanish!” An enthralled Raven sought to return to her end.

“No! It’s a trap. Trust me; I know! It’s always a trap!” Clarke struggled to bundle Raven out the door, shutting it the second the laborer crossed the threshold.

“I’ll move the money and then I’m done, Alexa.” Clarke folded her arms as she paced forward.

“Until you miss being part of this family.” Alexa winked.

“I’m going straight,” Clarke whispered.

“I don’t think that’s possible, my love. You like this world too much.” Alexa smiled radiantly.

Those green eyes now luring Clarke into a future misdemeanor. It took all Clarke’s willpower to follow her own advice and look away.

“I will call you when the money is moved. Right now… I got a shower that needs fixing.” Clarke headed for the exit with a grin.

 

* * *

 

Alexa sauntered toward the Bentley as Anya pulled open the back door, closing it once the mafia queen was situated inside. Anya hurriedly dashed to the driver’s side.

“Where is Octavia?” Alexa inquired, slipping her [Maybach Diplomat](http://spectr-magazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/Maybach_3.jpg) shades into place.

“Taking the ‘trash’ to the dump. She’s taken Hercules with her!” Anya responded swiftly.

“Excellent.”

“We done here, boss?” The thug glanced at the crime leader in the rearview mirror, placing the key in the ignition.

Alexa stared at the building site next door to Clarke’s home.

“I think our little family just got bigger.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am now in love with Alexa Tricruz. Thanks to my favorite Mancunian for creating her and indulging me.


End file.
